I HAVE CULINARY SKILLS- NOT!!!

Am I half a woman coz I can't cook? Should I prepare for gross theft of husband because someone else is going to fill his stomach with non- poisonous food? Writing about it, I begin to panic but otherwise, I know its not my fault that every one starts panicking when I enter the kitchen.

It's ridiculous: when ever I try to cook, my heart winds up in my mouth and I panic, sweat and pray. Of course, one out of ten times, I perform miracles and pips look at me askance, the other 9, however, every one starts to fidget as supper draws nearer, with the brave ones running to their rooms feigning sleep or intense headaches.

For that matter,I have decided that HE must be a chef or we are not going anywhere. Or at least he should know how to cook, or he should like to take me to fang fang like twice a week, what... Otherwise, we are so ****ed.

GROWING PAINS

The interview went well. Infact, it went so well, it lasted whole day. But, am not hired. Yeah, it's complicated. But no sweat, no one ever died of ' no-hire-ance'.

The last time I had a job opportunity, it was a gig in Kasese. I was going to cover a one week conference. The pay promised to be good and everything was going well till I asked for permission to go. Okay, maybe not permission as such. Am at a stage where am slowly easing away from that. These days, I say it like it is: I tell them what they need to know when am halfway where I need to be. It works most times, not this time however. here's how it went down with my big sister;

me :Am going to Kasese for a week (walking away)

her: No you're not. (popping another nut in her mouth, eyes never leaving the tv)

me : Eh- eh, it's work and it's official.

her: How are you going to get there, where will you stay, do you know these people?

me: It's all sorted. I don't even need to know them, I just want their money.

her: No.

me: But am grown up! I can do what I want! (immature whining voice. gone is the adult of a few minutes earlier)

her: Rosette,(in a know-it all- voice) I've lived more than you. The world's full of conmen, waa, waa, waa, waa, waa (at this point am not listening)

me : I don't care. If they steal me, it's my body. my mistakes, my... (she's bloody walking out on me!)

her: Ask mummy.

me: but you're my guardian!!!

By this time I'm yelling but she' still popping those bloody nuts. cool as a cucumber. AAARGHH!!!!

The whole thing degenerated from there. she called my mum and fed her some kind of serial killer story. By the time my mum called, she was panicked; she'd received word that a certain serial killer had lured me to Kasese and I was going, come hell or high water (I'm kidding about the serial killer but the story she'd got was almost as twisted). To cut a long story short, I didn't go.

This Thursday, I have another gig in Kyenjojo. I told sister dearest last week, and then again yesterday. from her reaction, you could have sworn kasese never happened. she asked a few info- seeking questions, gave me upkeep and gave me 'permission' for want of a better word. I wonder what happened to change her approach to my life.

CARPE DIEM

My new blog's paining my eyes but I like it. So, having decided that I will not wallow any more. I've been thinking constructive thoughts. It occurs to me that I forgot about an interview all because I was so busy wondering how to beat the boredome (abashed grin). But never fear, am going to present myself there tomorrow, last I checked, he had kind eyes, lemme go see if I was mistaken. I'll report back. I'll say I'd had a... very bad...allergy of the sole.

Obama is president. A black man! and it's not even bleeding 24, it's real life. I keep forgetting to believe it. Am happy for all black people all over the place.

Right, lemme go ogle my new template and decide if I like it or not.

NB: This won't sound very mature but isn't he the cutest thing! I can see where Obama Girl was coming from.

BOREDOME FOR BEGINNERS

Today, am in a mood. I'm in the mood to share my deepest, darkest secrets and I don't care if they come back to haunt me. Let's start with songs that make me wail ;

1. Do me, I do you- P square. I'm kidding.

I'm so bored, I could spit. What does one write about the inside of a house where one spend's all the 24 hours of one's day, most days. I don't know. Gone are the days when I used to wake up anxious to show my housemates why we don't need a maid. I'd wake up and clean up from top to bottom and when they'd come back, I'd enjoy helping them gently pick their jaws up off the floor. Now I don't care. Okay, that's not true; I narrowly don't care.

Haven't had a good belly laugh in ages so my energy is low. I can't even think good idiotic thoughts and yet I thrive on a good snigger. No inspiration whatsoever.Lots of boring facts everywhere I turn.

I have this idea of making the biggest mural ever. Okay, not ever but one that could go from wall to wall (in my small room). i have the canvass and everything. Only thing i lack, as mentioned earlier, is inspiration. so, every morning, i get out of bed, spread out my materials, look at the canvass for five minutes, then on and off for about an hour. Finallly, I gather it all up and return it to whence it came. Hate it. But Ill try again tomorrow morning, without fail.

Highlight of the week: i taught my sisters how two step a la Soldier boy.It was wicked!!!! For maximum grasp of the concept, you need to understand that they are both the most proper thing you ever saw. But they were game. I guess they understand that idle minds are the devil's workshop.And lord knows am idle.